Hellfire
by thumos
Summary: When Tarrlok kidnaps Korra, he realizes that he has her completely at his mercy, in every possible sense. NO PAIRINGS.


_Happy Valentine's Day!_

* * *

Over the course of the day, Tarrlok came back to his little cabin in the mountains several times to check up on Korra. The first time he came back, he was astounded to see that the Avatar had stopped struggling, and was now sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back perfectly straight, her eyes closed. For good measure, Tarrlok felt her blood and tipped her head forward slightly; whether she couldn't feel him bloodbending her or she ignored him completely, Tarrlok couldn't tell.

And then, something occurred to the councilman: he had the Avatar _entirely at his mercy_, in every possible sense.

He was repulsed, at first, not knowing he was even capable of thinking such vulgar things. But, he conceded, if the situation became desperate, he could always take her and leave, passing her off as…

Passing her off as _what_? She looked too old to be his daughter, but she could easily pass for his sister… and she _was_ old enough to pass for his _wife_. Yes, Korra was _surely_ of marriageable age… All Tarrlok had to do was carve a betrothal necklace for her, which shouldn't take much time at all, and then they'd be off, doing whatever it was that married couples did.

In a way, Korra reminded Tarrlok of his ex-fiancée – both were loud, rambunctious, vivacious, strong, confident… and both had a strong sense of justice as well. Kera had left all those years ago because she saw what Tarrlok had become, and now Korra saw exactly what he was – and he hated both women for that. But there was another part of him, a dark voice at the back of his mind, that wanted to just press her against a wall and fuck for all it was worth.

The second time he came to check on Korra, he immediately reached for her blood to see exactly what she was doing inside that metal box. She was still sitting cross-legged with her eyes clothes, but she was slouching now, and she was shivering in the cold. Tarrlok almost felt sorry for her – _almost_. And then, she suddenly leaned backward, bumping her head against the metal box and crying out in pain. Tarrlok knocked on the side of the box, smirking as he felt Korra flinch from the noise. "Korra? How are you doing in there?"

"Go to hell!" she yelled from inside. She straightened up as best as she could, though she now had to lean against the metal wall for support, took a deep breath, and shut her eyes.

"Korra?" Tarrlok knocked on the metal wall. "What are you doing in there?"

"Do you mind? I'm _trying_ to meditate here!"

Tarrlok simply chuckled and left the cabin, smirking as he felt Korra shivering in the box, unable to maintain her position. When he came back a third time, his secret was out – both to the Avatar and the rest of the world. It was time to finally put his plan into action. "So, your little bloodbending secret's out, huh?" Korra asked tauntingly.

Tarrlok bristled, throwing open the door to the metal cage and bloodbending Korra on the spot. She looked terrible – her face was a bit paler than usual, there were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was coming out of its ponytail. And, as he glared at her, Tarrlok saw Kera, staring accusingly at him and leaving him just weeks before their wedding.

_Be mine, or you will burn._

That urge was back – the urge to make her squirm, to scream, to cry out his name in something besides anger. Yes, he would take her with him as he fled Republic City, and then she'd…

… but everything changed when Amon attacked. Too quickly and anticlimactically, his bending was gone, along with the control he had over Korra. He saw her once before blacking out entirely.

But the girl standing there, looking weak and frightened, wasn't the Avatar – it was Kera.

* * *

_Protect me, Maria!  
Don't let this siren cast her spell!  
Don't let her fire sear my flesh and bone.  
Destroy Esmeralda,  
And let her taste the fires of hell,  
Or else let her be mine and mine alone.  
Hellfire, dark fire;  
Now gypsy, it's your turn.  
Choose me, or your pyre.  
Be mine or you will burn!_

_- Disney's "The Hunchback of Notre Dame"_


End file.
